


Hang A Shining Star

by sunlight-and-storms (all_i_see_is_sky)



Category: Keeper of the Lost Cities Series - Shannon Messenger
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_i_see_is_sky/pseuds/sunlight-and-storms
Summary: Keefe nods, nudging Fitz’s shoulder. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. We’re going to raise the roof!”Fitz snorts, taking a sip of his eggnog. From the living room, a stream of chatter weaves between the lyrics of Christmas Island. The whole house is warm and smells of nutmeg.“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”
Relationships: Keefe Sencen/Fitz Vacker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	Hang A Shining Star

If you had to give each season a word to describe it, winter would be quiet.

Summer is light, heat waves sinking across the country and sunshine spreading its rays. Spring is growth, flowers opening and leaves unfolding. Autumn is rest, leaves dropping to the ground and blowing away on the wind. 

And winter is quiet. It’s something in the air- something about nature pausing, holding its breath, something about the way the snow muffles any semblance of sound. Winter is a time for introspection, a time to catch your breath. It’s peace. 

Right now, though, the house is anything but quiet and peaceful. 

Even from two floors up, Fitz can still hear the finishing chords of Mariah Carey’s  _ All I Want For Christmas Is You,  _ Biana humming along. He’s supposed to be retrieving the decorations from the attic, but he doesn’t want to leave the relative safety of his Justin Bieber-less space. 

“Fitz?” Livvy pokes her head into the room, garishly-patterned Christmas sweater seeming to glow in the dim light. “Everything okay up here?”

“Yeah,” Fitz grimaces as  _ Santa Claus Is Coming To Town  _ starts up. “Just trying to save my ears.” 

Livvy laughs, sitting down on a box labeled  _ China Tea Set- DO NOT TOUCH.  _ “Yeah, I get that. I love Dell to death, but her music taste is terrible.”

Fitz nods. “And it’s  _ Christmas songs.  _ How do you mess up  _ Christmas songs? _ ”

“Not sure, but they’ve managed to do it.” Livvy springs to her feet and picks up a fake wreath the size of her torso. “We should probably get this stuff downstairs.”

“Yeah.” Fitz picks up a box that just says  _ X-mas shit  _ and rests it on his hip. “All right. Into the beast’s mouth we go.”

“Maybe we can steal the aux cord and change the music to something good.”

Biana and Della do not, unfortunately, relinquish the music. They do change it to Ella Fitzgerald’s Christmas album, though, so Fitz counts that as a win. 

_ Winter Wonderland  _ is crooned through the speakers as they start to unpack the boxes, sparkling glass ornaments hung on the tree next to a horrifying glue-and-yarn monstrosity Fitz made in first grade. Biana pulls a tiny tissue-wrapped package out of a box and holds it up with a shout. 

“I found her! The mermaid!”

Livvy whoops as they all gather around to watch as Biana hangs the ornament on a pine branch. The mermaid is vaguely misshapen, facial features in the wrong places and tail twisted in on itself. It’s a Vacker family tradition- Fitz and Keefe bought it at a gas station at 3 am once when they were fifteen and they’ve never looked back. 

“Perfect,” Della says, stepping back to look at the tree. “All we have to do is put the lights on the house, then.”

Everyone groans. Having a huge house is nice for some things; parties, for example, or having sock-sliding races, but hanging lights is always a pain. It takes multiple people just to hang a single string- Keefe usually comes over to help. 

“Where  _ is  _ Keefe, anyway?” Livvy asks like she can read Fitz’s mind. (She actually might be able to. She’s talented like that.) Biana, from where she’s seated on the sofa untangling the lights, looks up. 

“Oh, he couldn’t come today. He and Marella have a date to-”

“A  _ date? _ ” Della interrupts, looking at Fitz. “Huh. I always thought… I mean, that is to say, I always assumed Keefe…”

Fitz flushes. “No, mom, not that kind of date. They’re just the only two people crazy enough to go sledding.”

“Tobogganing,” Biana corrects. “Marella found an old toboggan in her garage and decided to take it out. I think they’re going down a hill near here, actually.”

“Well, maybe they’ll drop in after they’re done,” Della says crisply. “Eggnog, anyone? I’ll put nutmeg in it.” 

Fitz stands up to go help just as the doorbell rings. He blinks, turning towards the front hall. “I’ll get it, I guess. Maybe Marella and Keefe are already done.”

He opens the door to see two snow-covered figures standing on the porch. Fitz can’t even see their faces, covered as they are by scarves and hoods. The shorter figure shakes off her coat and resolves into the form of Marella. 

“Hey, Fitz,” she says. “Can we come in?”

Fitz narrows his eyes at the two of them. “Yeah, sure, just leave all the snow on the porch. What  _ happened  _ to you?”

Keefe pulls the scarf off his face, dropping it in a heap at his feet. He grins at Fitz, cheeks rosy from the cold. 

“You know that  _ Calvin and Hobbes _ strip where Calvin drives his sled into a tree and it breaks and he falls into the snow?”

“Vaguely. Please tell me you didn’t break your toboggan.”

Marella pats his shoulder as she enters the house, the wrists of her sweater wet from melting ice. “Sorry, can’t do that. It’s a pile of wood now.” She shrugs. “It was kinda a shitty sled anyway.”

Fitz rolls his eyes as they walk into the living room. Biana’s head snaps up and she pushes the Christmas lights onto the floor. 

“Marella! Hey!” 

Marella smiles, pulling her into a hug. “Hey, Bi. What’s up?”

Biana gestures toward the lights on the floor, which are only marginally less tangled. “Oh, you know. Just… fixing up the lights. Want to help?”

The two settle down on the couch, and Fitz and Keefe share a long look before slipping off to the kitchen. Keefe waves at Della. 

“Hi, hon,” she calls, serving out the eggnog. “How was tobogganing?”

Keefe lifts one shoulder and takes the offered cup. “Okay. Better at the beginning, that’s for sure. How’s your composition going?”

Della grins, one of those huge, bright ones that Livvy swears could light up the whole world. “Well! We’re going to see if the orchestra can perform it next weekend. Speaking of which- Fitz invited you to the party, right?”

Keefe nods, nudging Fitz’s shoulder. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. We’re going to raise the  _ roof! _ ”

Fitz snorts, taking a sip of his eggnog. From the living room, a stream of chatter weaves between the lyrics of  _ Christmas Island.  _ The whole house is warm and smells of nutmeg. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

* * *

Fitz stares at his reflection, hands anxiously tapping the table in front of him.  _ Jingle Bell Rock  _ is playing on the radio on his dresser, the upbeat music floating through the windows and into the darkening sky. Della and Livvy are out for the night, so he and Biana have the house to themselves for their party. 

It’s not a huge affair- it never is. Just them and their friends; Sophie and Dex, Tam and Linh, Marella and Maruca and Wylie. Keefe. 

Keefe, of course, presents a problem. 

Fitz isn’t stupid. He’s known what he’s feeling since it started four years ago. He’s known exactly what the clenching in his gut was, why his skin felt hot whenever Keefe brushed his hand. 

He’s not stupid, so he’s not going to do anything about his feelings. 

The music on the radio changes into something slower, sadder. Imogen Heap’s voice seems to echo in the room, as she repeats  _ just for now, just for now.  _ Fitz closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to prepare himself. 

A soft ‘psh’ comes from the doorway. Biana moves into the room, switching off the radio and giving him a sharp look. 

“Really? Tonight’s a celebration, Fitz, not a pity party. You can be sad later.” 

“I’m not  _ sad, _ ” Fitz protests. “I’m just getting ready!” 

“Mmm.” Biana perches herself on the bed, green dress crinkling slightly. “You  _ will _ be okay, though, right?” She asks, tone softer. Fitz nods.

“I’m fine. I promise.”

“Okay. But I’m here if you ever want to talk.” Biana stands up and ruffles his hair. “Now come on, I need your help with the cheese platter before everyone arrives.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings. 

“Too late for that,” Fitz says dryly as Bi darts downstairs. He glances in the mirror one more time before moving towards the stairs. “Here we go.” 

Sophie, Dex and Marella burst in as soon as he opens the door, throwing their coats on the floor and attack-hugging him. Tam, Linh, Maruca and Wylie trail after them, calling “Merry Christmas!” as they kick off their shoes. Fitz tries to wave from underneath his hug pile. 

“Merry Christmas,” he manages. 

Finally, Keefe staggers in, covered in snow for the second time this week. Biana snorts. 

“Need some help there?”

Keefe mumbles a word that might be “No” as Biana brushes some of the snow off of his shoulder. 

“Come on, I think you might have an extra suit upstairs. Fitz, can you get everything cleaned up down here?”

“Sure,” he says, turning to the others and picking up discarded coats. “So did you all walk over here together?”

“Yup,” Maruca affirms, hanging her coat on a hanger. “Sorry about Keefe, by the way.”

“He fell into a snowdrift and had to change,” Marella explains. “I think he keeps an extra suit here?”

Sophie snorts. “He ‘ _ fell _ ’ into a snowdrift,” she says with exaggerated air quotes. “And by that, I mean Mare pushed him.”

“In my defense-” Marella holds up a finger- “his face was annoying me.” 

“Right,” Fitz says, holding back a laugh. “Well, as soon as Keefe gets changed, we can-” A creak on the stairs interrupts him, and Fitz spins around to see Keefe standing there in a clean suit. 

_ His  _ suit. 

“Sorry,” Biana says with a smirk that implies she is anything  _ but  _ sorry. “It turns out Keefe doesn’t have an extra suit here after all. And this one is too big for you, right?.”

“Y-yeah.” Fitz attempts to remember how to speak. “Yeah, no, that’s fine. That’s- fine. Good. Great. Yeah, it’s fine.” 

He hears giggling behind him and turns towards the living room, resolutely not looking at anything else. “Anyway. Who wants food?”

* * *

“And  _ that  _ is why we don’t write personalized messages on bouquets anymore,” Maruca finishes, taking a delicate bite of a meatball. “Although there was also the guy who wanted me to write his ex a note that just said  _ Hey Jane, fuck you and your fucking poodle.  _ So, you know, it might have been more than one thing.”

Keefe snorts, leaning forward to grab another cookie. His shoulder brushes Fitz’s and Fitz stiffens before forcing himself to relax. He’s fine. This is fine. 

“So, how about some music?” Marella says, plugging her phone into the speaker. The opening notes of  _ Let It Go  _ trail through the air and Dex boos. 

“No  _ Frozen! _ ” Linh calls. Fitz blinks. 

“Wait, I thought you loved  _ Frozen _ .”

“Not anymore,” Linh says, settling back into the sofa cushions. Marella sighs and skips to the next song, cutting Elsa off in the middle of her line. Pentatonix’s  _ Joy To The World  _ starts up and she flops onto the floor.”

“You’re all homophobic.”

Biana laughs, sliding off the couch to sit next to her. She hands the smaller girl a mug of hot chocolate. “Here. Drown your sorrows in this.”

“Is it alcoholic?” Marella squints at it and takes a sip. She makes a face. “No.”

Patting her on the back, Biana turns to the rest of them. “Want to watch a movie? I think we have  _ It’s A Wonderful Life- _ ”

“No way,” Wylie cuts her off. Keefe nods.

“It’s Charlie Brown or nothing.”

Biana rolls her eyes and grabs the tv remote, clicking her way to  _ A Charlie Brown Christmas.  _ Next to him, Fitz feels Keefe stretch his legs out before curling up on the corner of the couch. He leans his head on Fitz’s shoulder, and Fitz takes a deep breath. 

Yeah. This is fine. 

Onscreen, Lucy tells Charlie Brown to direct the Christmas play. Keefe smiles and snuggles closer to Fitz, wrapping one arm around him. Fitz glances down at him, but the other man is completely engrossed by the movie. Maybe he’s just cold. 

He must be  _ really  _ cold, then, because by the movie’s end, they’re practically pressed together. When the lights come back on, Fitz expects Keefe to move away, but he doesn’t. They stay snuggled on the couch all throughout Tam and Marella arguing the merits of  _ The Polar Express  _ and Linh’s terrible rendition of  _ That’s Christmas To Me.  _ (Fitz loves her, but the woman can’t sing to save her life.) Keefe only moves when someone mentions  _ Silent Night,  _ turning to Fitz with an excited look. Fitz stares back. 

“No,” he says. Keefe pouts. 

“Please?” 

Fitz sighs, standing up. “Fine. Let me get my cello.” 

Playing music, even the worst, most religious Christmas songs, always calms him down. He and Keefe used to do this a lot, play together when they were sad or worried or stressed. Dragging his bow along the strings as piano notes lift into the air is familiar, easy. 

They get through  _ Silent Night, Carol Of The Bells,  _ and  _ Hallelujah  _ before Keefe just slams his hands on the keyboard and shatters any semblance of peace they’d had. Fitz can’t bring himself to care, though, not when Keefe is laughing.

Livvy always says that Della’s laughs are the most beautiful thing in the world. Looking at Keefe, Fitz understands that. 

Biana plugs her phone into the speaker and Bing Crosby starts to sing about how it looks like Christmas. Laughing, everyone stands up and starts to dance. None of them are very good, and they’re all slightly drunk, but it’s nice.

And they must be playing some sort of Bing Crosby album, because  _ White Christmas  _ comes on next. Almost immediately, everyone pairs up, swaying back and forth. Fitz looks at Keefe, blinking slightly. 

Keefe smiles and puts his hands on Fitz’s hips. They move around the room slowly, taking tiny steps in time to the music and finally dancing right out onto the front porch. 

The sun has set by now, and the frost on the lawn seems to glitter in the soft moonlight. Snow is still falling, and it seems almost magical when the next song to come on is the Nutcracker Ballet’s  _ Waltz of the Snowflakes.  _

“I used to love this song,” Fitz says quietly, sitting on the top of the porch steps. “We went to see the ballet in the city when I was a little kid, and I thought it was the most amazing thing ever.” 

“Huh.” Keefe sits down next to him, staring out at the silent greenery. “I never saw it,” he offers. Fitz snorts. 

“I know. Your dad wasn’t really big on  _ theater. _ ” 

“Yeah.” Keefe gives him a small smile. Fitz turns to look at him, biting his lip. 

“Are you- happier? Now?”

Keefe takes his hand, running his thumb over Fitz’s knuckles. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” he says. “With all our friends, and your mom and Liv, and…” he glances up for a moment. “With you.”

“What-.” Fitz looks up, too, to see a spinning green bundle of plants hanging above them.  _ Mistletoe.  _ “Oh.” 

He looks back down, straight into Keefe’s eyes. The other man is smiling, and Fitz thinks that’s where he gets the courage from. 

Carefully, he leans forward and presses their lips together. 

It’s short and sweet, and when they pull back they’re both blushing. Keefe scratches the back of his neck. “So, uh,” he starts. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Fitz blurts. Keefe blinks. “Sorry, I just- I needed to-”

“Uh. Me too,” Keefe says, snorting a little. Fitz stares at him, a smile spreading across his face. 

“Well. Good.” 

“Yeah,” Keefe laughs, leaning in again. “ _ Good. _ ”

* * *

Winter is quiet. But even now, with music and laughter spilling out of his house and his best friend (boyfriend?) smiling on the stairs next to him, Fitz is at peace. 

Winter is quiet, but sometimes it’s nice to make some noise. 


End file.
